


War of Their Own

by wulfeyes08



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Military, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, Sassy Will Graham, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wulfeyes08/pseuds/wulfeyes08
Summary: Eyes looked up at him, wild and angry, terrified and lost. Then they widened even more, just a fraction, and Hannibal could see the recognition. “Lecter. Captain Lecter.” That made him fight harder. “Let me go!”“You need to calm down.”“Please, just let me go!” There was a desperation in his voice, a need for freedom. “Please.”He let his fingers move to grab his chin, holding him still. “You need to calm down before you further injure yourself.” He leaned closer. “Breathe.”“Get off.”“Not until you have sufficiently calmed down.”
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 173





	1. Capture and Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> First AU...BOOM. It's chapter-sodic and will be flipping back and forth between their perspectives. 
> 
> Also yes, the tent is huge. My mother-in-law had one of those big heavy duty canvas ones that it's based off of.

Hannibal’s eyes moved over the most recent field report: Unit neutralized. One survivor. His men had worked with surgical precision, easily moving through the enemy encampment and dispatching them. All but one. His description read: Young, possibly in his thirties. Brown hair. Male. Rank of Private. That was two days ago and it gave him little to go on, but he would work with it. 

The flap to his tent was pulled back, letting in the sound of rain and his Lieutenant. He sat the paper down, as he raised his head and sat back in his chair. “Percy, it is rude to enter unannounced.”

There was a minute flash of fear, followed by the man quickly composing himself. “Captain, I apologize for the intrusion, but our boys were just spotted, they’ll be arriving soon.”

“Very good, have them bring the prisoner directly to me. I would very much like to speak to him.”

“Yes sir.” He didn’t immediately leave, and Hannibal arched an eyebrow. “Something you would like to add?”

“What do we plan on doing with him, sir?”

“Treat him as civilly as he will allow us.” He waved him off. “Take Chiyoh and meet the men, ensure he is in good condition.”

“Yes sir.”

He looked back down at the paper, re-reading the little mystery that was about to fall into his lap. They didn’t know anything else about him, only his physical description. He would have them go back later and retrieve any files that weren’t destroyed. For now, he would wait and gauge the young man’s temperament.

~

He truly was young, and looked far too innocent to be in the middle of the jungle taking part in a war. There was a familiarity to him, something he couldn’t quite place no matter how much he searched his mind. He shook his head, letting it go for now. He had Chiyoh help undress him, and Hannibal checked his wounds. They were mostly cuts and scrapes save for the bullet wound at his side. His men had done their best to field dress it, so Hannibal took the time to examine it, cleaning out any debris, then stitched and redressed it before they slipped clean clothes on him. 

“Would you be so kind as to get a fire started.” Chiyoh moved away as he retrieved restraints. He gently drew the young man’s arms above his head, cuffing him to the cot he had had brought in.

“Is there anything else you need?” Chiyoh asked. 

“I want you to take two men back to collect any leftover documentation.”

“Don’t let your guard down while I am gone.”

“You know I won’t.” She nodded, leaving him and his captive behind.

Hannibal spent the rest of the day reviewing reports and recording the most important information in one of his journals. He heard mumbling and turned in his seat, watching the young soldier. His voice sounded distressed in its incoherence, and he couldn’t help but stand and cross over to him. His eyes were moving rapidly back and forth beneath his eyelids, sweat dotted his skin, and his breath came in panicked, desperate gasps. He leaned over him, hands bracing on the cot as he drew closer. He smelled of sweat and fear. His eyes snapped open, at first horror-filled, then confused as he stared up at Hannibal.

“You are finally awa…” A knee met his ribs, then a foot braced against his stomach and shoved hard, sending him back and into his table. He moved forward, hands pinning his legs to the cot as he straddled his hips and grabbed him by the throat. “Enough.”

“Get the Hell off of me!” He bucked and Hannibal moved up higher.

“I said enough.”

Eyes looked up at him, wild and angry, terrified and lost. Then they widened even more, just a fraction, and Hannibal could see the recognition. “Lecter. Captain Lecter.” That made him fight harder. “Let me go!”

“You need to calm down.”

“Please, just let me go!” There was a desperation in his voice, a need for freedom. “Please.”

He let his fingers move to grab his chin, holding him still. “You need to calm down before you further injure yourself.” He leaned closer. “Breathe.”

“Get off.”

“Not until you have sufficiently calmed down.”

He glared, but took a deep breath, letting out a hiss of pain. “Hurts.”

“You were injured, but it’s nothing serious.” Hannibal used his free hand to lift the young man’s shirt, giving a sigh of disapproval. “You ripped your stitches open.”

“Stitches?”

“You were shot, or do you not remember.”

“I do, I remember soldiers, your soldiers.”

“You thought to sneak up on us, but I’m afraid we found you out before you had the chance.”

“Bastard.” He swallowed. “You killed everyone, you…”

“Would your men have given us mercy?” He stared down into those furious, haunted eyes. “Why were you here? To subdue us? To kill me?”

“Go to Hell.” His eyes darted around. “Where am I?”

“My camp, in my tent.”

His eyes looked back into Hannibal’s. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Only if you give me a reason to.”

“You should just get it over with, I’m not telling you anything, not after what you did.”

It was amazing how openly rude this one was, so easily speaking his mind in his fury and fear. Any other day, he would have killed him, but he was drawn in by his own curiosity at why someone so seemingly soft would be here. “That would be far too quick, and I find you to be very interesting.”

“Funny, I don’t find you interesting at all.”

He grinned down at him. “You will. Until then, I would get used to being here. This is now your home and if you act in a civil manner, you will be safe. My men only brought you here to please me, not because they felt anything for you. I am your sanctuary until I see fit not to be.”

“What…what are you going to do to me?”

“First, I will fix your stitches, and then if you can stay calm, I will let you up.”

They stared at each other, Hannibal patiently waiting and watching as the wheels turned in his head. He was looking for an escape, calculating the odds of him making it away. “Fine, I won’t fight, just get off of me, I can’t breathe.”

“I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

~

Expert fingers moved over his skin, re-stitching the wound he had opened in his panic. He watched the Captain, wary and mistrustful. He could feel mild annoyance and slight amusement coming off him, but other than that, the man was a blank slate. “Would you like to tell me your name?” Hannibal asked as he examined his handiwork. 

“Not really.” 

He raised his head, their gazes colliding and sending a shiver up Will’s spine. “You have me at a disadvantage. Tell me your name.”

“Private.”

“Private…” When he received no answer, he sighed and sat up. “I sent my own to retrieve any files on you. I will find out regardless of your obstinance. Your first name and only your first name will do for now.”

“It’s…Will.” He felt defeated, like he had somehow given away a large part of who he was. 

The Captain smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you Will.”

“Are you going to let me up now?”

“Of course.” He watched as he cleaned up his medical equipment, then retrieved the key to the cuffs. He unlocked one, helped Will into a sitting position, then locked it back around his wrist. “Better?”

“Yeah, sure.” He took a better look around. “This is a lot more than I expected.” Large canvas tent, a wood stove and table, a makeshift bed with a metal box sitting at the foot of it, probably filled with clothes. There were also books stacked on a smaller bedside table. It was like a small home.

“I ensure that all under my command are taken care of. A warm environment and good food make for high morale.” 

“That’s not what the reports say.”

“I would imagine not.” He sat down on the cot next to him, hand on his wrist. It was a means to control him, not comfort him. “Why don’t you enlighten me, Will?”

“Ruthless. Unforgiving. Monster. That’s how they describe you. Eater of men. Murderer.”

“You believe them?”

“Yes.”

“Good, with a single exception.”

“What would that be?” He knew he shouldn’t be so curious, there was no point. All he wanted to do was escape and report his captor’s whereabouts. 

“I only eat the rude.”

“I feel so safe.” That earned him a chuckle. 

“Are you hungry?”

He finally looked over at him. “What?”

“Would you like something to eat or drink?”

He didn’t want to admit that he needed both, but he had no idea how long he had been without food and water. “Both.”

“Then come,” he reached over, grabbing Will’s boots, “let me feed you.”

~

The tent where the mess hall had been set up was surprisingly clean and warm. It didn’t help, however when everyone paused to look at him, making him feel like some sort of exhibit. He found himself moving closer to the Captain, an instinctive act that embarrassed him when he accidentally bumped into him. “Sorry.” He mumbled, good manners getting the better of him. 

“None of them would dare lay a hand on you.”

“If you feed them the way you feed yourself, I imagine I must look like fresh meat.”

“Then it is lucky for you that I don’t.”

Amusement washed over him from the other man, and he sighed. “Are you being serious?”

“I am only ever serious.”

The cook was inviting, smiling at Will as soon as he saw him. He could feel that that could change in an instant, that all it would take is one wrong move, one misstep, one threat to his Captain and Will was dead. “Captain, good evening. I see you have brought me another mouth to feed.” The man paused in his cooking. “New pet of yours? Looks a bit scrawny.”

“A guest.” Hannibal rested a hand on Will’s shoulder. “This is Private Will.”

“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Will raised his cuffed wrists. “Raiden Carter.”

“You too.”

“Our young Private here is in need of food and drink. Would you mind?”

Carter shrugged. “Since it’s you asking sir, I’ll see what I can do.” His eyes were still on Will. “Soup okay?”

“Soup’s fine.”

“Good, because it’s what we’re having.”

“Thank you, Carter.” Hannibal replied, then guided Will over to the end of one of the tables. They sat, in silence, Will taking in the faces of everyone else. There were ten of them, not counting the cook or the Captain. “Three.” 

“What?” He found his eyes back on Hannibal. 

“There are three others missing.”

So, there were fifteen in all, meaning if he did run, he would most definitely be caught, especially with the hindrance of the rough terrain. “I see.”

“Knowing Chiyoh, she will push them to cut the trip in half.” 

“Oh.” 

“Are you ready to tell me more about yourself, Will?”

“You don’t really want to know about me, you’re just hoping I’ll spill something.”

“Quite the contrary, I am equally as interested in you.” He leaned forward. “Why don’t we trade details about ourselves. Ask me anything you wish.”

He searched his eyes. As far as he could see, he was being genuine. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

Curiosity and empathy were his worst enemies. He didn’t like displeasing people, if only so the negative emotions wouldn’t affect him. Even being in such a small group took a bit of effort, but he fought against his instinct to flee. “Is it true you were a surgeon?”

“It is, a military surgeon in point of fact.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Boredom.”

“As a surgeon?”

“Being out here with these men is far more stimulating.”

It was a lie, the first he had told as far as Will could tell. He wanted to push for the truth but opted not to. He worried about what might happen if he actually managed to make him angry. “I guess I can see that.” Carter came by, dropping off a glass of water and a bowl of soup, halting their conversation as the delicious smell wafted up his nose. He was starving. 

“Eat.” The order was given gently, but there was something in his tone that said it wasn’t up for debate. 

Will dug in, letting out a hum of pleasure as the taste of it ran over his tongue. “This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so, I taught him myself.”

“You cook?”

“I do, on occasion.” He huffed out a laugh. “Okay, my turn.” He tapped his finger on the table. “What is a man like you doing out here? I can tell you aren’t exactly at home here.”

Will slowly chewed what was in his mouth. Fear squeezed his heart and twisted in his gut. Loyalty combatted hate until he had to avert his gaze in order to compose himself. He gave the Captain a smile when he was able to look at him again. “Same as you, bored.”

“I see, then may we find excitement together.”


	2. An Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You beat me.” Will sat back in his seat, brow knitting as he looked at the board.
> 
> “Only just. You gave me quite a workout.”
> 
> “I doubt that, you completely wiped the floor with me.”
> 
> “Will, the way you chased my king was incredible. I have never been so aggressively pursued. It’s flattering.”
> 
> Will’s cheeks flushed and he found the turn to embarrassment interesting. “I’m really not that good.”
> 
> His cuffed hands were sitting on the edge of the table and Hannibal reached over, running a finger over one metal bracelet. “Your hands are quite dexterous. Have you had training, Will?”  
> He pulled his hands away, dropping them into his lap. “No I…I learned on my own.”
> 
> “More boredom?”
> 
> “Yeah, nothing to do growing up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I would like to warn you that there is talk of abuse in this chapter and also a nightmare about abuse. I am an abuse survivor myself and I would want to know if there was something that might trigger me. 
> 
> Second, our boys get to know each other a little better and Hannibal is starting to catch those feels.

In two days, Hannibal had found out much about Will. He was, for the most part, an atrocious liar, especially when it came to information regarding his family. He was sure there was a history of abuse, given away by the flashes of shame and fear he saw in the younger man’s eyes anytime they spoke on the matter. This could also be why he had an inherent need to please people of authority, even when he rudely spat insults and sarcasm. He was an intriguing creature, empathetic and curious. On the afternoon of the third day, he had managed to coax him into a game of chess. He generally played with Chiyoh or Percy, but he found his game with Will far more stimulating. He played the offensive, unafraid as he pursued what he wanted. It was a beautiful juxtaposition.

“You beat me.” Will sat back in his seat, brow knitting as he looked at the board.

“Only just. You gave me quite a workout.”

“I doubt that, you completely wiped the floor with me.”

“Will, the way you chased my king was incredible. I have never been so aggressively pursued. It’s flattering.”

Will’s cheeks flushed and he found the turn to embarrassment interesting. “I’m really not that good.”

His cuffed hands were sitting on the edge of the table and Hannibal reached over, running a finger over one metal bracelet. “Your hands are quite dexterous. Have you had training, Will?”  
He pulled his hands away, dropping them into his lap. “No I…I learned on my own.”

“More boredom?”

“Yeah, nothing to do growing up.”

“I was taught by my father.” He pulled his own hand back. “I was quite spoiled as a child; languages, sciences, games, anything I wished for was mine. I craved knowledge and ate it up.”

“That actually explains a lot. No playmates?”

“One or two. What about you?”

“None.”

“No childhood friends?”

“No, I…”

He heard Percy’s voice call from outside the tent and gave a sigh at the interruption. He and Chiyoh came walking in together, both looking serious and grim. “Did something happen?”

“We need to talk, sir.” Percy said.

“Now?”

“It’s of great importance.” Chiyoh added as she flipped her bag open and extracted a file. “Now, Hannibal.”

“Excuse me.” He stood, moving around the table and taking the file she held out. He flipped it open, eyes landing on Will’s face. He looked up at Chiyoh.

“Keep reading.”

He looked back down, eyes moving over the paper. William Graham. Mid-thirties. Average height. Mother deceased. Father…his eyebrows shot up and he looked back at Will. He was looking back, body and face tense, eyes moving briefly to the file then back. Hannibal looked to Chiyoh and Percy. “This is true?” They both nodded. “I see. Leave us, you two go over anything else.” They nodded again, leaving the tent and Hannibal turned, making his way back to the table. He dropped down into his chair and sat the file in front of Will. “Your father is General Theodore Alexander?”

Will stared into his eyes for a moment, then finally glanced at the file. He shook his head. “No.”

“That’s not what the file says, Will.” He tapped the paper. “Right here. Theodore Alexander, father.”

“He’s not.”

“I can see now why you wanted to keep your name a secret. It’s quite something having a General for a parent, and not just any General, but…”

“Stop calling him that!” There was real, unbridled fury in his eyes when he raised his head. His lungs heaved for air. “He is not my father.” He stood. “Don’t ever call him that again. If you do, I…”

“What Will?”

He shook his head, then moved around the table to his cot. “I would like to go to sleep, I’m tired.”

Hannibal stood and turned, Will laying down as he approached. He had pushed him too far. He unlocked one of the cuffs, looped it through the top of the cot and latched it around his wrist. He was refusing to make eye contact. “Will.”

“Don’t you have some men to look after or paperwork to do?”

“I suppose I do. Should I wake you for dinner?”

“No.”

“As you wish, good night.” He received no response, only Will twisting onto his side in avoidance. He left him there, turning the oil lamp off on the way out. 

A coldness seemed to settle into Will, only engaging with Hannibal when it came to food, the bathroom, or sleep. He discussed Will with Percy and Chiyoh, agreeing that he would make the perfect leverage, but that they should move camp. It took three days to pack up and they moved as quickly as possible from their current location. Will seemed to be on better terms with Carter, conversing with him anytime they stopped. Something dark twisted in his heart at the sight of him smiling and laughing at some joke the other man made, when he wouldn’t so much look his way. He didn’t understand it and forced the feeling down into the deepest parts of his being. They finally set up a few days later, Chiyoh and Carter going out to hunt while he helped the others set up camp.

They settled in that night after a long, exhausting day, Will turning his back to Hannibal. He relaxed into his bed, listening to Will’s breathing until he drifted off. He was snapped awake by a wail of terror and agony. It jolted him into action, his hand drawing the knife from beneath his pillow, believing they were being attacked. It took him a moment to realize it was coming from Will. He dropped the knife, sliding quickly off the bed and lighting the lamp. He was thrashing around and pulling on the handcuffs with such force he had started to bruise his wrists. He reached for him, unable to help himself.

“Will, wake up.”

~

He always knew how to inflict pain without leaving a mark, and when he did leave one, it was always temporary. Even so, the sting lingered, it sank into his bones, into his soul, where it would never leave him. He had learned begging did nothing, but he couldn’t stop the screams of pain. He pressed his forehead to the floor and clenched his fists, holding back the need to vomit. He felt himself being grabbed and he kicked and bucked, finding himself unable to use his arms. He heard his name, but instead of the disappointed growl of the General, it was calm and concerned. It surrounded him in a cool caress, and he jerked awake with a whimper. His eyes met Hannibal’s and he found himself trying to lean into him, tugging at his restraints as he did so.

“Let me go, please.”

“Easy, you’re hurting yourself, let me get the key.”

“Hurry.” He forced himself to keep still, his body shaking and sweat soaked. Hannibal returned, and unlocked his restraints, and he wrapped his arms around him, not caring if he looked weak or needy. He was terrified, so he clung to the Captain. 

Hannibal sat down on the edge of the cot, pulling Will up as he did so, his hand running up and down his back. They sat in silence, Will sinking into the security he offered until he had calm down enough to think clearly. He pushed out of Hannibal’s arms, shame catching up to him, but the Captain took his hand and let his thumb brush over the bruise at his wrist. “Would you tell me, Will?”

“I don’t…I mean if I did…”

“As a precaution, I think I should know.”

Will nodded. He was right. What if he did more than bruise his wrists, what if he actually hurt someone? “It was…the General.”

“What of him?”

“I need you to know, he’s not my father.”

“So you said.” 

“He adopted me when I was eleven because his wife couldn’t have children.” He swallowed. “He had incredibly high standards, and if you didn’t live up to them…” he took a deep breath, “let’s just say he knows exactly how to harm and humiliate, even without touching you. Even worse, he was a high ranking officer even then and people just looked the other way. I left home when I was twenty, but he used my mother as leverage against me. If I didn’t do as he said, she would suffer.”

“Your biological mother?”

“No, his wife, Mrs. Alexander. He was a bastard, but she was and still is my mother. She tried to shield me, but he was and still is a ruthless monster.”

“Are you here because she is no longer among the living?”

“Am I that obvious?” 

“I can read you like a book. You should get better at lying.”

“I’ll keep that in mind and yes,” he nodded, “she died a year ago and I changed my last name back to the one given to me at birth, to make it harder for him to find me. I doubt it worked, probably pissed him off more.” He sighed. “I enlisted, was shipped out, and here I am. It feels like some sort of dark divine twist of fate. Escape one monster only to find myself at the mercy of another. What are the odds?”

“Am I truly so bad?”

“By comparison? No.”

“But you are hesitant to label me as a good person. I would be too, in your shoes. I am by no means good, I take my work seriously, but I do enjoy the company of others. Especially those who draw my curiosity.”

“And those who draw your ire?”

“They find themselves in a very delicate position.”

“A frightening thought.” He let out a huff of breath, feeling the weight of his fatigue calling him back to sleep. “We should get back to sleep. Sorry for waking you and dropping my entire life on you.”

“I doubt that was your whole life.”

“Close enough. They're my most vivid memories."

~

Hannibal didn't like that lost look, like he had fallen into a pit and had given up trying to climb out. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, hoping to comfort him. “May I tell you something?” 

“Sure.”

He let his gaze drift over to the fire dancing in the oil lamp for a moment as he reached into himself, allowing one of the many locked doors in his mind to crack open for a brief moment. “I had a sister.” He looked back to Will. 

“You did?” There was a flicker of curiosity, of surprise.

“Younger of course. She was innocence and kindness personified, a child of wonder with a need for adventure. A beautiful soul, wise beyond her years.”

“You said was?”

He nodded. “She was murdered.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“She was my responsibility, my charge, and I failed to do as any older brother should do.”

Will swallowed, a look of genuine sadness filling his eyes. “How did you survive?”

“Revenge and refusing to stay still. I kept myself busy after, and I locked her away, gave her a special place to reside in my heart and mind. A place no one has touched but you and I.” 

“Why tell me then?”

“So, you know you are not alone in your horrors or your pain. We all suffer, we would have no reason to live otherwise.”

“I wish I could suffer with such grace.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, I’m ready to be put down for the rest of the evening.” Will raised his arm, a look of pure exhaustion on his face.

Hannibal’s eyes moved over the contusion ringing his wrist and how dark it already was from his violent thrashing. “I think I’ll be keeping these for now. I doubt you will try to run in the middle of the night knowing how easy I wake. There is also another storm moving in.”

“What are you doing?”

The confusion on his face gave him an endearing quality, making him look far younger than he was. He traced the bruise again, getting a little wince of pain out of him. “Taking my property back. You never know, I might have to restrain someone who thinks you look particularly delicious.”

“I doubt that would ever happen.”

“Oh? I seem to be feeling rather hungry lately. Perhaps I should use them to keep you safe.” It earned him a smile, small though it was, it still pleased him to see it. It took all he had to release his hold on the younger man and stand. “Try to get some rest but know you can wake me at any time should the General find you again. I am more terrifying than any nightmare you may have, they will not stand against me.” He started to turn, when Will caught at his arm, his grip strong. “Something else?”

“Just…” He looked so unsure, a war going on behind his eyes as he decided what to say. Hannibal waited patiently, a smile tugging at his lips at this almost childish display. “Just, thank you.”

“Thanking your warden, how odd.”

“You’re not much of a warden, Captain Lecter.”

“Then I shall endeavor to change that.” He teased. “Goodnight, William.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

Will’s fingers slowly slid from his arm and Hannibal added more wood to the stove before turning the lamp off. As he climbed into bed and beneath the covers, he had to admit that he quite liked his prisoner and the way the word “sir” had sounded coming from his lips.


	3. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I seem to remember you saying you were good at fishing.”
> 
> “I am, when the fish are interested in biting.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s the bait.”
> 
> “Perhaps you are simply an atrocious fisherman.”
> 
> “That’s a good way to get yourself drowned, Captain.”
> 
> “I would like to see you attempt such a feat, William.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we all know what comes after the calm. I wanted to give them more bonding time before that. I mean we all knew it was going to wind up with some crazy stuff going down. Let me apologize in advance. 
> 
> In this chapter you have plenty of flirty and insecurity to last until next chapter. Love you all!

A month. It had been over a month since his capture. A letter with his file had been taken and delivered to the General, a promised threat on his life if Hannibal’s demands were not met. No one had come for him, no rescue party had been spotted moving through the jungle, so Will was sure he had been abandoned. He had to admit he was surprised, that the General hadn’t sent someone out of mere spite. There was a feeling of relief in it, a hope that he had truly been forgotten by the man. He now sat on the edge of a pool of water near base camp, barefoot and shirtless as he fished, the sound of the waterfall bringing him a sense of peace. He had found the pole tucked away with the munitions and had wanted to make himself useful after being given what freedom he had.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” He smiled at the voice and twisted around.

“I am, it’s not raining for once.”

“Have you caught anything?”

“A small one, threw it back.” He patted the spot next to him. “Join me?”

“Sure.” Will turned back to look over the water as Hannibal moved to sit next to him. “This is nice.”

“It is.” They sat in silence for a bit, falling into a now familiar rhythm.

He jumped when he felt Hannibal’s fingers brush the back of his neck, nearly dropping the fishing pole. He cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Your hair is getting longer.”

“Hmm?” He looked over at him.

Hannibal was grinning, clearly amused. “Your hair.”

“Oh.” He reached up, running his fingers through the short strands. He hadn’t noticed. “Yeah, I had it shortened before I came out here, it’s pretty curly.”

“Such a waste. I think I would enjoy them.”

He had never thought anything of them, often forgetting them. Goosebumps crawled over his skin at every brush of his fingers. It did nothing to relax him, instead sending heat spreading through his entire being. He didn’t realize he had been sitting there staring into Hannibal’s eyes until those fingers slid over his cheek. He swallowed, captured by that predatory gaze, unable to look anywhere else.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Will?”

He shook his head. “Not at all.”

“I see.” He dropped his hand, still smiling.

His heart was out of control, hammering furiously against his chest. There was something wrong with him, it filled him, weighing heavily in his chest and stomach. He focused too much on him. He was all high cheekbones and feline grace. It gave him an unfair advantage, making him far too charming. His breath caught in his lungs for an instant. “Any word from the General?”

“None, though I feel that means little.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is a violent conniving man, he would see this as an insult.”

“It’s been a little over a month.”

“He is simply biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.”

“Why?”

“Because Will,” he leaned in and Will’s fingers tightened reflexively around the fishing pole, “that’s how you catch prey.”

In his time spent with Hannibal, he had learned the meaning of the word. When he moved through camp, he could feel his eyes, watching and stalking, waiting to pounce every time he made his way past him. He was prey, at the mercy of a very deadly predator. “Like a hunter.” His voice came out softer than intended.

“Exactly.”

~

Playing with Will had become his favorite pastime. When he wasn’t overseeing his men or going over reports, he would tease and torment the younger man. He had found that Will was quite sensitive to touch, just a brush seemed to send a shock through him. He had found any reason to do so and logged each instance and his reaction away for later examination. “I don’t think we’re going to catch anything else.” Will said, his bright eyes wide, and every muscle in his body locked into place. He wasn’t afraid, just aware of the intentions and feelings Hannibal projected. He breathed in. Will smelled of the sun and sweat and nature, like the jungle had seeped into his skin and refused to leave him.

“I seem to remember you saying you were good at fishing.”

“I am, when the fish are interested in biting.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s the bait.”

“Perhaps you are simply an atrocious fisherman.”

“That’s a good way to get yourself drowned, Captain.”

“I would like to see you attempt such a feat, William.”

Will finally managed to look away, leaving Hannibal once again feeling victorious. “Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.” He reeled in the line, eyes glaring at the water in slight irritation.

“I could join you.”

“Do you know how to fish?”

“No.”

“I can teach you.”

“Would you?”

“If you like.”

“Then tomorrow it is.”

They stood, Will stretching, eyes closed, and face tilted up towards the sun. He was a gorgeous creature, Hannibal would give him that. He observed the line of his body, the clenching and relaxing of muscle. He wanted to touch, to trace every line and commit them to memory. Instead, he allowed his eyes to linger even after Will had noticed, grinning at the self-conscious look on his face.

“We should get back before they think I’ve done something to you.”

“Rest assured, they would be more concerned for your well-being than mine.”

“I’m surprised they’ve grown that attached to me.” They walked slowly back, fishing pole thrown over Will’s shoulder.

“You are quite a charming creature. I feel that they would have a very hard time choosing between us.”

He smirked at the sudden blush that joined the red flush already on his sun heated skin. “I doubt that Captain Lecter, I have never met men and women more loyal than yours.”

“We shall see.”

~

Will woke with a start, his heart stuttering in his chest as he swallowed down the terror that had plagued him in his sleep. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his face as he looked around the dark tent. He could hear Hannibal breathing, the sound soft and even. He needed water. He got up slowly, pausing at the cot’s squeaky springs. He found the canteen he and Hannibal shared, then stepped outside. He shivered at the cool air, goosebumps rising on his skin, but at least it helped chase some of the shadows away. He moved away from the tent and dropped down on one of the makeshift stools next to the fire pit. He looked up, instantly captivated by the moon and stars.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Are you psychic or something?”

“Not so much. I heard you leave.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you, just another nightmare.”

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

A blanket was dropped over his shoulders. “I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death.”

“It’s not that cold.”

“It most definitely is.” His voice was pitched low, soft enough to not wake the rest of his men, but just loud enough for Will to catch the finality in his tone, the absolute refusal to be denied. He wondered if others heard it, if they quivered at the very sound of him speaking. “Tell me.” It was a gentle command, one Will knew he should resist, but that he didn’t want to.

He swallowed. “He…he forced me to sleep outside sometimes…because he could. He told me if I was going to act like an animal, then I could sleep like one. All it took was one perceived infraction.” He felt a squeezing in his throat, and he took a breath. “This one night, my mom left one of the windows unlocked, but I was too loud, and he found me breaking in. He stripped me, beat me, and threw me back out. It was so cold, but I didn’t dare do it again. Giving up was easier than…easier…”

“Than killing him?”

“Yeah.” He huffed out a little laugh. “I’ve thought about it, about killing him. There are so many different ways I’ve imagined him dying, so many agonizing tortures I’ve hoped to put him through, but I’ve always been too much of a coward to do it.”

“It’s about survival, Will, not courage or cowardice.” Hannibal’s fingers slid over the top of his head and back in a soothing rhythmic motion. He was tense at first at his touch, but his muscles soon started to relax, as if they had a mind of their own. It was almost like he was this man's dog, an abused rescue that he found any reason to console. The thought was equal parts amusing and irritating, but he didn't fight against the obvious results of his petting. “There will be a day when you wake up, and you realize he is nothing but a nuisance.”

“One can only hope.” He let his gaze shift to the Captain. “You should get back to bed.”

“You should come with me.”

His heart jumped. “What?”

“A hostage is no good sick.” He held out his hand. “It’s much too cold for you.”

“I…” He was at a loss, feeling very cornered, and he had to take a moment to replay the request in his head. Hannibal was, as always, patient. He stood, eyes focused fully on Will, seeing him and his insecurities and accepting them without question. He reached out, his hand sliding into Hannibal’s, his skin heating at the curl of his fingers. He allowed himself to be pulled up and away. He paused at the tent opening, a shudder moving up his spine that had him turning to look back out at the dark jungle. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He shook his head, following Hannibal. “Felt like I was being watched.”

“Perhaps a jaguar.” He was released long enough for the tent to be completely closed. “You need not worry; it wouldn’t dare come in here.” 

“Too afraid of you?”

“Exactly.” 

Hannibal reclaimed his hand, taking him over to the bed rather than the cot. His brain only had a moment to catch up, and his first instinct was to pull back. “Hannibal, I can’t…”

“It is merely to allow you to sleep, nothing more. Whether you wish to admit it or not, physical contact with me calms you. You need a full rest, Will, let me help.”

“You don’t want anything else?”

“I offer comfort only, nothing more.”

It was true that Hannibal had been the only one allowed to lay a hand on him, other than the handshakes he had used to greet the others. It was another peculiarity, the ease he felt around a man who should only ever be his enemy. He knew he should turn away, reject him, and deal with his demons on his own, but he couldn’t. He was drawn in by the understanding and lack of judgement, by the offered warmth and consideration. He had even noticed the way Hannibal telegraphed his movements at times, so Will could easily read him. He knew that despite all that, Hannibal could have ulterior motives, but he wanted to trust him. He nodded, “Alright.” then crawled across to the far side and under the covers, facing the tent wall. The bed dipped as the Captain climbed in next to him, and he grew tense, holding his breath as he waited. 

“Will?”

“What?”

“I am going to touch you.”

“Okay.”

He felt a palm press against the back of his neck, the brush of a thumb at the base of his skull. His touch was real and solid, a gentle reminder that he was not alone, and that Hannibal knew he felt more vulnerable now than ever. “Now sleep.” 

He nodded, eyelids dropping closed as he took breath after deep breath. He drifted in darkness and warmth, but even as a calm settled over him, he could still feel the gaze of whatever lurked in the night.


	4. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal’s eyes moved back down. “Your jaguar?” Will could only nod. It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything but the pain and dizziness. “Chiyoh, have the others prepare to leave. I would like to meet this jaguar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, this isn't the last time we'll see this big, evil bastard. He'll be coming back, I promise.

Stalked. He was being stalked. Will sat by the fishing hole, every muscle coiled tight as a spring, sense suddenly wide open as he worked to pick up any out of place sight or sound. The only indication that there was something wrong, were the hairs on his body standing on end. Stalked, and not by Hannibal. The Captain wasn’t even here. He had left with Chiyoh and two others, three days ago for a reconnaissance mission. He hadn’t divulged any real information, only promised he would return as soon as possible. Percy was in charge until he came back and had only asked that Will not be out after dark. 

He finally had to look, allowing his eyes to scan the trees. Nothing, not a single flash of movement. He slowly reeled in the line, no longer feeling relaxed or patient enough to fish. He stood, gave the area another look, then started back for camp. He put the fishing pole away as soon as he returned, realizing the gaze of whatever had become fixated on him followed. If it was a jaguar, he had been lucky the beast hadn’t attacked. He didn’t want to have to kill such a beautiful creature, but he would if it came down to it. The uneasiness of the situation had him hoping Hannibal would return soon. 

He ate with the men that night, joking about his bad luck with fishing and being teased by them for looking like a lost, lovesick puppy. Will only shook his head in denial, but shot back with, “You’re just mad because I’m better looking than the rest of you.”

Going to sleep that night was more work than it had been. He tossed and turned, finding himself staring up at the ceiling. He had become too used to Hannibal’s presence and that nagging feeling still pulled at him. There was something out there, and it worried him. He sighed, climbing out of the Captain’s bed and grabbed his boots and a flashlight. He would only go out far enough to see if he could spot any eye shine. He quietly exited the tent, moving through the camp slowly, and only switching on the flashlight once he was on the edge of it. He scanned the trees, the light glinting off something for a moment. He focused back on it, taking a few slow steps closer. He didn’t realize how far he had gone, until he felt someone behind him. He turned, a hand gripping his throat and shoving him deeper into the jungle. The flashlight was wrenched from his hand as he was slammed against a tree. The air left his lungs, leaving him gasping.

“If you scream, I will slit you open and leave you hanging for your little friends to find.” The strength behind that grip and the tone of voice told Will the man wasn’t joking. “I have been waiting to get you alone, little traitor.” Those fingers moved to grab a handful of his hair and pulled his head back, so he was forced to look into the man’s eyes. His eyes widened at the face the flashlight revealed.

“Dolarhyde?”

“How nice of you to recognize me.”

How could he not. The last time he had seen him was when he had been forced to work with the MPs to find him at the General’s command. The Tooth Fairy, The Dragon, both were Francis Dolarhyde and he was a terrifying monster in his own right. Happy families were his prey, and they had not been hard to find near his place of employment. “There is no way, I could forget your face.” That had Dolarhyde gritting his teeth, a snarl welling up in his throat. “What are you doing here, get bored in prison?”

“Your father sent me.”

It surprised Will that his heart wasn’t jumping at the mention of the General. Whatever Hannibal had done, it was sticking. He was more shocked his father had found a way to get the man released. “Did he now?”

“And I’ve been waiting for you, hoping that Captain of yours would leave you alone.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill him the minute he left.”

“Those weren’t my orders.” He fingers tightened even more in Will’s hair, threatening to rip it out. “Your father sends a message: kill the Captain and your weakness is forgiven.”

Will glared defiantly at him. “And if I refuse?”

“I go into that camp and I torture and kill all of them in front of you.”

There was no lie in his eyes. Nothing had changed about him, about his joy of the kill. Will was trying to think of any way he could get out of this, but there was nothing. “I don’t have a weapon.” 

“You’ll find one.” Dolarhyde finally released him and stepped away. “You have once he’s back.” He tossed the flashlight to Will, and when he finally righted it and shone it around, he found his attacker was gone. He turned, searching the immediate area, his flashlight catching that glint again and as he approached it, he realized it was a gun. He swallowed as he picked it up. A gift from the Dragon. He thought to alert the others, but he knew if he did, they would die. The unfairness of this situation ate at him, and he had no idea what he was going to do.

~

Hannibal could tell there was something wrong the minute he saw Will. He had finally returned with the falling of the sun, he and the others covered in sweat and dirt and exhausted from trekking through the forest, but all that seemed small in comparison to the look of nervous worry he saw on the other man’s face. He asked Chiyoh to brief Percy while he slowly approached him. “Will?” Their eyes met, and it was almost like Will couldn’t believe he was there. He could see him trying to close himself off, that he was attempting to hide what was bothering him. “Are you alright?”

He blinked, coming out of whatever daze he was in. “Yes…yes, sorry.” He looked Hannibal over. “You’re back and you look like you just crawled out of Hell.”

“Not quite, though a shower would be nice.”

“We filled up the tank yesterday, so you should go and…”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I mean nothing out of the ordinary. Nightmares and long nights.”

It was a partial truth. He had no doubt Will had had many a nightmare since he left, but there was something else, an anger and uneasiness he had not displayed since his first day. “Perhaps we should talk about it.”

“I’d like that.” He was given a small smile. “You should really get clean.” He reached out, unconsciously it seemed, and brushed at some dirt on his uniform. He frowned when he realized what he was doing and dropped his hand. “Go, I’ll see you after.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am, really.”

“Come find me if that changes.”

“I will, I promise.”

That, he believed. He did not wish to leave him so clearly distressed, but he knew Will would seek him out eventually, no matter what it was that bothered him. “Very well.”

He walked away, giving Will the time, he needed, not wanting him to shut down should the pressure seem too much. He had grown quite a bit, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t suddenly regress and refuse to trust him. He dropped off the Kevlar vest and his knife, gathered a change of clothing, and headed to the shower.

He took his time, in no rush while he thought of not only what he, Chiyoh, and the others had found, but also of what it would mean to Will. He had shown no indication of ever wanting to escape, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind once he realized the General had sent an entire unit after him. It was a strange thing, this attachment he felt for a singular person. Even the time he had spent away seemed strange. There were mornings he woke, hoping Will would be there curled up next to him after another awful dream. It shook him, unexpectedly, and he was at a loss of what to do with this new information. He switched off the water, dried, dressed, and made his way back to the tent.

Will was there waiting for him when he walked in and his eyes were drawn to the gun in his hands. “Where did you get that?”

“Does it matter?” He raised his gaze at the quake in Will’s voice.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” The table was between them and Hannibal circled around to the right, Will mirroring his steps. He was being smart and keeping distance between them. “I take it you found out?”

There was a brief flash of some imperceptible emotion is his eyes, then, “I did.”

“And what will you do, now that you know?”

~

Will kept the gun trained on him as they moved slowly around the table, eyes focused on each other, muscles coiled and ready to spring. They were like two predators, waiting for the opportunity to pounce and tear at each other with sharp claws and teeth. “I’m going to leave.”

“You could have done so while I was away.”

“Trust me, I thought about it, agonized over it day after day, but I always felt eyes on me, watching and waiting. If I ran, someone would catch me, and night was no good. What if I ran into you on the way back? It's better I know exactly where you are.” The truth, the undeniable truth, was that he had wanted to say goodbye face to face. He watched as Hannibal paused for a moment, then started moving forward.

“Afraid of the dark?”

“Afraid of what waits in the dark, Captain.” He let his finger rest on the trigger. “Stop.” And he did. “I was just biding my time, waiting day after day, gaining your trust, playing the role of the friend until you let your guard down.” The words tasted bitter, toxic. “And you believed me.”

Hannibal swallowed. “I did, how unfortunate.”

“So, I’m going to go, and if you try to follow me, I’ll kill you.” He hoped Dolarhyde would come for him, that the man would hunt him instead of focusing on the camp. “I don’t ever want to see you again, I…”

“Hannibal.”

Chiyoh’s voice had him looking over his shoulder, and as she came running into the tent, Hannibal moved. The blade bit into his stomach, causing him to drop the gun. It was like a lake of fire had spilled into his abdomen. He clung to Hannibal, eyes focused solely on him, barely registering Chiyoh’s shocked gasp. He felt the blade move as he was ripped open, the agony of that moment seeming to stretch on forever. “Hann…Hannibal…please…please…”

“I know, it won’t last forever, just breathe.”

“Wait.”

“It’s alright.”

It wasn’t, none of this was. His legs buckled, and Hannibal slowly lowered him to the ground. Blood-stained fingers brushed over his forehead and cheek. “Hannibal...sorry.”

“You are so clever, even now. To twist and bend me with your words.”

“I did…I didn’t…” The look on his face, pain and betrayal, broke Will. Tears of frustration and despair slipped from his own eyes. He wanted to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, but it was already too late. “You…not safe…” He wanted to curl in on himself, to let the pain and blood loss take him from this cruel thing he had brought down on them. 

“To think you would try and take my life.”

“No…never…I…” 

“You should have run when you had the chance.” He brushed at the tears. “A smarter man would have.” He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. “I forgive you, Will.”

“Hannibal.” They both looked up at Chiyoh. “I spotted a soldier.” 

“Run.” Will gasped out. 

“Only one?” Hannibal asked.

“There could be others. He is obviously on a recon team.”

Hannibal’s eyes moved back down. “Your jaguar?” Will could only nod. It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything but the pain and dizziness. “Chiyoh, have the others prepare to leave. I would like to meet this jaguar.”

“No.” Will wanted to grab him, to stop him from fighting the Dragon, but he was so weak that his arms refused to listen. 

Hannibal palmed his cheek, the gesture deceptively endearing. Crying. He looked like he was crying, but Will couldn’t be sure. He only knew that his voice shook as he spoke. “Lie back, Will, lie back and let yourself be taken away. Drift and dream and know this will all be over soon.” 

He stood and Will could do nothing but let him go. He looked to Chiyoh and he hoped she could read the desperation in his eyes. A plea to protect one of the most feared monsters in the world. He blinked, at least he thought he had, and when he opened his eyes again, he was alone. He lay there shivering and drifting, skirting on the edge of consciousness. It was frightening, the possibility of dying, and he stayed awake as long as he could, fighting for one more second of life before he finally succumbed to the blood loss and fell into that dark abyss.


	5. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mr. Graham, you need to lie back down.” One of them cooed gently.
> 
> His throat felt so dry, and tired. “I need to go.” He rasped out.
> 
> “Sir, you need to rest.” The other said and they both slowly approached him.
> 
> He cleared his throat. “No, I…I need to get up, I have to…have…” It hit him, the weariness. He felt drained, like his entire being was suddenly full of lead.
> 
> “Easy.” They were close enough now to gently grab him and help him lie back down on the bed.
> 
> “How long?”
> 
> “Three months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll call this the we finally get a break chapter. It's also more Will focused, but I wanted him to have a "fuck you" moment.

He lay in darkness, felt it envelope him, wrapping around his body in tight inky coils. It froze his body, his heart, his lungs. All he knew was that ever shifting night. It breathed and rocked around him, cradled and squeezed, until he could do nothing but give into it. “Will.” The voice was a soft purr. It filled him with delight and dread, a reminder of both warmth and pain. “William.” Fingers brushed his cheek, as cold as the gloom that surrounded him. He blinked his eyes open, breath sticking in his lungs at the creature above him. Jet black skin, eyes like night, protruding bones, and antlers. He knew, deep down, he should be terrified, that he should be crying out for mercy, but there was a soothing familiarity to the beast. He reached up slowly, fingertips brushing its cheek. There was someone, he remembered someone. He brought his other hand up, framing the creature’s face. There was someone. It leaned closer, breath brushing his lips.

“I…know…you.” He was confused at first, his mind working to find the name and face of this being. He felt security, warmth, and an ache of want for something, for, “Hannibal.” It grinned, lips brushing his, and he jerked awake. He gasped for air and tried to set up, adrenaline pumping through his body, cancelling out everything else. He looked around, confused, taking in the medical equipment, following the tubes and lines back to himself. Hospital. He needed to find him. He found the call button and pressed it repeatedly, his body quivering as he did so. He had to know he had escaped. Nurses came running in, looks of surprise on their faces.

“Mr. Graham, you need to lie back down.” One of them cooed gently.

His throat felt so dry, and tired. “I need to go.” He rasped out.

“Sir, you need to rest.” The other said and they both slowly approached him.

He cleared his throat. “No, I…I need to get up, I have to…have…” It hit him, the weariness. He felt drained, like his entire being was suddenly full of lead.

“Easy.” They were close enough now to gently grab him and help him lie back down on the bed.

“How long?”

“Three months.”

Three months. Three months in his own mind, floating alone in that darkness, completely lost until the creature. A representation of memories and trauma, of him, of Hannibal. He had broken through like he always did and had drawn him out. Even so, he was pulled back down, this time, into sleep. He woke again to a nurse gently shaking him and he once again felt that momentary confusion before remembering where he was.

“You have a visitor.”

“Who?”

“Me.” That voice. Deep and domineering, the ghost of his worst nightmares.

The nurse raised the head of the bed, then gently rearranged his pillows behind him. “Thank you.” He said.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

He just nodded and she left him alone with the General. He expected himself to feel some sort of terror at the sight of him, but there was nothing but contempt. “Surprised to see you here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He held up a duffel bag. “Supplies.” He dropped it next to the bathroom door.

“Don’t start with me, with that pathetic manipulative bullshit.” He could see anger flare in the General’s eyes as he crossed the room. He raised his hand, but Will’s glare seemed to stop him in his tracks. “Go ahead.”

“You have grown quite impudent.” He dropped his hand.

“What do you want? Come to gloat? Maybe explain why you sent Francis Dolarhyde after me?”

“I don’t know why you’re so angry, William, he wasn’t the one who gutted you like a fish.”

“No, I think that responsibility falls to you.” He could see the General's jaw clench. 

“The Captain escaped you know, so did Dolarhyde.”

Will actually laughed. “I’m sure your superiors are loving that.”

“I’m sure they would if they knew.”

“You always were good at covering things up.”

They glared at each other for a moment. “Dolarhyde won’t stay that way. You know what he’s capable of, what he’ll do.”

“That’s your problem, handle it yourself.”

“And what of Captain Lecter?”

“What about him? He’s gone, I’m glad.”

“You are nothing, but an ungrateful, pathetic little bastard, beholden to that creature and his band of rebels.”

“That’s right, but I was mom’s bastard, not yours and the Captain didn’t spend his free time slapping me around. Now, get out of my room.” He felt so much stronger, more in control than ever before. It was like the shadows had been brushed back and he could finally see how pathetic and weak the General was. There was a sense of victory when he finally left and Will relaxed fully into his bed. He needed to find Hannibal. 

~

A week later, he was being discharged, more by his own insistence than anything else. He stood in the bathroom, eyes focused on the scar. He ran fingers lightly over it, his reminder of his own selfish transgression. He dressed and was met by one of the nurses as he stepped out. “I nearly forgot; this was dropped off for you.” She held out a package and an envelope. 

“By who? When?”

“We didn’t see, and about two months ago.”

He took them carefully in his hands. “Thank you.” He went and sat on the bed. He started with the envelope. It was a letter, and it read:

“Will,

Hannibal asked that you have this. He is still angry, though he hides it well. I believe he hopes to see you. He said to simply follow what he says, and you should find him. Please, be careful. I don’t know what happened that day, but I do know that it hurt him greatly. The others and I are safe, and we wish for your speedy recovery. 

With Hope,

Chiyoh”

He brushed his fingers over the handwriting, a sad smile pulling at his lips. He could tell, without seeing her, that she was conflicted. Loyalty warred with affection, and in the end affection had won. He slipped it back in the envelope and set it aside, then picked up the package and unwrapped it. It was a journal. He flipped it open. There was a message inside the front cover, one he didn’t understand, and that he would have to translate later. He looked to the pages, slowly reading them. They were journal entries, beginning a week before his capture. He opted to read the rest once he was out of the hospital. He called for a ride, and as soon as he was in the backseat of the taxi and had given his on base address, he read.

“13, August 2013

He plays chess, aggressively. He prowls across the board like a hunter. His projected fear and innocence are overshadowed by the ferocity and tenacity he shows when he his completely focused. 

15, August 2013

He is unlike any I have ever known. Beneath the mistrust, there is a wildness. A beast lives in his heart. I find myself pulled in by his seeming gravity, a creature drawn by his curiosity to a bright light. It could mean death or liberation. He has nightmares, horrifying things about his adopted father. It is unfortunate but has given him an intriguing personality.” 

Will smiled at that. Intriguing was one way to describe him. He continued, flipping through page after page, heart stuttering at seeing most of the entries were about him and their daily interactions, of how irritatingly complicated sleep had been for him while they were apart. He then came to the event after his stabbing. They did not have the same energy, only a sad, silent void. Chiyoh had been right, he was hurt. The car came to a stop and he finally looked up from the journal. He was home. He quickly paid the driver, grabbed his bag, and climbed out. He dropped down onto the couch the moment he was inside and continued his reading. He was given pause, when he came not to a journal entry, but to an actual letter. 

“William,

Have you made it to this point yet? Are you still breathing? There was a moment I thought not to write this, but I found I could not stop myself. How are you, mongoose? Still scared of the things in the dark, or have you moved past them? I think on us, on our time together. Do you?”

He had thought of him from the moment he had woken. Of what he would say and do. How he would explain things, if given the chance. He wondered if Hannibal would listen, or if maybe he was so incensed that he would rather fight.

“To have shown myself to you only to be cut from within. I dwell on that often. I think of you and of my sister, Mischa, of how you were both headstrong and honest, of how you affected me and changed me. Do you know anger and regret, Will? I have found, after knowing you, what they mean.”

He could imagine Hannibal sighing, could hear the sound of his exasperation at being too open. 

“I shouldn’t be prattling on about the past, of what could have been. I wrote this to focus on tomorrow. Forgive me for wasting your time and allow me to get to the point. In these last few pages, you will find a few things, clues if you will. If you wish to locate me, then follow them. You played with me and now, I will play with you. I will be waiting for you. Try not to disappoint me.

Safe Travels, 

Hannibal”

He felt that familiar ached in his heart, the way it tightened his chest and threatened to bring him to tears. It was such a shocking and unexpected reaction to a man he had known only two months, but it was real, and he would follow it to wherever Hannibal led him. He needed to know if the same gnawing want lived in the Captain. He forced himself to flip away from the letter, that heartfelt message of hurt that bit at him, and to the pages after. There were sketches of buildings, a cityscape, a church, and a symbol. He did not want to waste the time researching, but he knew it would be expected of him. There would be no point in him seeing Hannibal if he wasn’t willing to work for it. 

~

It had become routine; waking and working only to once again drive to the chapel. He lit a candle, sat in silence and contemplated everything. The bite of anger had lessened, but the pain still felt as fresh as that day. Waking. Working. The chapel. Each time he expected Will to be there, and each time he was disappointed. He had counted the days, and each moment that passed seemed to further widen that gap between them. He often closed his eyes, picturing Will there, his smile coming easily to his lips, his hair that grew ever unruly as time went on, the way his eyes flashed when he was upset or warmed when he shared something that interested him. He wondered how much he had grown, what he had retained from their time together or if he had forgotten everything, maybe even thrown it away. 

Here he sat at the chapel once again, mind lost in the rooms and hallways of his mind, in the memories. Affection. Betrayal. A need to punish and praise. Conflicting emotions raged through him, threatening to break open carefully sealed doors, and allow his darkest memories to slip through the cracks. He opened his eyes, feeling that familiar confusion at his fondness for Will. He needed an answer to the question that tugged at his mind and soul, the reason he had shown mercy to Will instead of leaving him dead. He stood, letting his eyes move over the room once more. He would not show up today, or maybe even tomorrow, but he was patient, and he would wait for as long as he had to.


	6. Whatever Tomorrow Brings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I attacked you.”
> 
> “I should have said something, but I wasn’t thinking of anything but everyone’s safety. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
> 
> “Who said you hurt me?”
> 
> “I know I did, because I can still feel it.” He squeezed Hannibal’s shoulders. “You’re apprehensive, ready to fight, and even though you’ve forgiven me, you’re still upset.” 
> 
> “Upset, yes, I am very upset, but more with myself.” Hands framed Will’s face. “To lash out in such a way…how idiotic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter...yeah...I did it...longest one yet. I'm also sick, so I call this a win. Open ended for further exploration. I love you all, thank you for sticking around and for all the support and comments and just being super awesome.

Will climbed off the boat and onto the docks, his heart a stuttering mess of nerves and anticipation. He had finally found Hannibal’s location, the city of Palermo in Italy. It had taken him two months to get here, all that time spent preparing and researching, attempting to cover his tracks, all before finally setting sail. Now, here he was, only a few minutes from Hannibal and the truth. He shouldered his backpack as he walked up the dock, taking in his new environment. The Captain has chosen a stunning location for their meeting, and a part of him hoped he would live long enough to enjoy it. 

He hailed a taxi once he was on the street and gave the driver the address, his chest squeezing when they were moving. He pulled the journal out of his bag and flipped it open as he had done many times before. He read and re-read the entries he had marked, feeling his skin flush when his eyes once again found the sentences describing how Hannibal saw him, how he smelled and felt, how he enjoyed sleeping next to him. To see such honesty and intimacy lay before him without embarrassment left him feeling guilty. He wondered if Hannibal would listen to him, or if he would be attacked again. 

It wasn’t long until the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the chapel, and Will shook as he paid the driver and climbed out. Seeing the building up close was surreal and he paused momentarily to catch his breath. He didn’t know why he was so anxious. He made himself go inside, the eerie silence of the place falling on him instantly. It was as if the Devil himself had come here and chased everyone else out. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought; if anyone was the Devil, it was Captain Hannibal Lecter. He let his eyes move over every corner of the interior, in disbelief at how detailed Hannibal’s drawings had been. He recognized it all, the chairs, the pillars, the flickering candles. Everything had been accounted for, sketched from a back corner of self-isolation. 

Hannibal wasn’t there, but he found it didn’t matter, he knew he would come eventually. He found a seat, his bag going on the floor next to his feet, and he waited in contemplative silence, eyes focused on the ever-dancing flames in their red candle holders. 

~

Hannibal was late, work having thrown off his visit to the chapel. He was always meticulous, there at the same time every day, waiting. It had been the most important part of his routine. However, this evening was different. He had almost gone home, having decided to simply make up the lost time, but then a need to be there had hit him. He pulled up to the chapel, flipping out the kickstand to his motorcycle before switching it off and removing his helmet. Tonight, anticipation crawled over his skin, drew him to the chapel doors with an insistent pull. He pushed his way in and froze. That scent: wild and earthy with a hint of sun and sea, partially masked by cheap cologne. 

There was a part of him that thought perhaps he had finally lost it, that after hoping, he was now having olfactory hallucinations. He was drawn further in, and he knew that was not the case. Will turned at the sound of his boots, and he felt the need twist inside him. He moved closer, stopping next to the row of chairs he sat in. The ritual was completely broken now. He could not bring himself to move past him to the candles, could only stand there waiting. Will finally stood, but he made no move at first. They stared into each other’s eyes, reading and studying each other. Four months had felt like an eternity. 

When Will finally moved, it did nothing to break the spell they found themselves trapped in, instead it only seemed to begin mending that severed bond. “Hannibal.” 

“William.” 

They were both breathless, and he found himself itching to spring upon Will, to sink teeth into soft flesh, to torture and taste him until he begged for forgiveness. Instead he stood his ground, coiled and ready. 

“I’m here.” It was a simple statement, yet it hit like a lightning strike. 

“I can see that. Such a clever boy to follow my clues.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“I would hope not.”

He wasn’t expecting the smile and finally reached out, unable to help himself. He brushed his fingers over Will’s cheek, stepping closer as he did so. “I’m real.”

“Are you?”

“Are you?” He shot back.

“I am not so sure these days.” 

~

Will reached out slowly, letting his hand rest against his chest, feeling the cool press of the leather jacket. “You feel pretty solid to me.” There was a slight quiver moving through his body, and he knew Hannibal could feel it too. 

“Unless I exist only to you.” 

“A hallucination then, or a hopeful dream? Maybe I’m still in a coma, stuck in my own head.” With that creature, Hannibal’s shadow. He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the case. I know that you and I are here, I know that you and I exist, and that we both made a mistake.”

“Did we?”

“You didn’t give me time to explain, you sliced me open without hesitation.”

“There was a moment, mongoose.” 

“A very brief one, then.” 

Hannibal’s fingers had moved down to curl around the nape of his neck, anchoring him to the spot. It would be hard to escape, but he wasn’t worried. “Why did you come here? For revenge, to bring me back perhaps?”

“No, I came to tell you why I was trying to leave.” 

“Then tell me.”

Will glanced around. “Here?”

He stepped a little closer, leaning in as he did so. “A chapel is good for confessing sins.” He pressed their foreheads together and Will couldn’t even dream of looking away. “Confess and be forgiven.”

“That man, Francis Dolarhyde, was sent by the General.” He sighed. “He caught me while you were gone, told me if I didn’t kill you, then he would force me to watch as he wiped out your men. I wasn’t going to...I couldn’t but staying also wasn’t a viable option.” He brought his hands up, placing them on Hannibal’s shoulders. “I was hoping if I ran, he would be so pissed he’d come after me, but…”

“I attacked you.”

“I should have said something, but I wasn’t thinking of anything but everyone’s safety. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Who said you hurt me?”

“I know I did, because I can still feel it.” He squeezed Hannibal’s shoulders. “You’re apprehensive, ready to fight, and even though you’ve forgiven me, you’re still upset.” 

“Upset, yes, I am very upset, but more with myself.” Hands framed Will’s face. “To lash out in such a way…how idiotic.”

“You could have killed me, why didn’t you?”

The question hung there between them and Hannibal pulled back. The same question was in his eyes. He had the opportunity, he still did, yet he made no move to do so. “I believe it is for the same reason you chose to run rather than allow myself or others to come to harm or the reason why your seeming betrayal left me feeling bitter.”

The answer was simple, but neither of them could find the courage to voice it. Love. It had visited them there in the jungle, and again here in this silent chapel. A curiosity turned into adoration and admiration. It was only the beginnings of it, but it was there regardless of their insecurities. It was both frightening and exciting to Will. “What are we going to do now?”

“Fate and circumstance brought us together, here and there, now we see where else it might drag us.”

Will nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“No, I wanted to see you first.”

“Would you like to stay with me?”

“I would.”

~

Hannibal was sure this was the first time, in a long time, that he had felt any sort of contentment. Will sat behind him on his motorcycle, arms wrapped tightly around him, forehead pressed into his back. He decided to take the long way home, wanting to savor this moment. It was a bit of a disappointment when they finally arrived, but at least Will had not asked him to take him to a hotel. He led him inside, his keys going in the small bowl by the door, his jacket hung in the nearby closet. He removed his boots, and Will kicked his own shoes off. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” He moved into the living room, looking around the unfamiliar space. “It’s exactly what I was expecting.”

“Meaning?”

“Well organized, clean, not a single speck of dust. My place seems so cluttered in comparison.”

“I am sure your home is quite nice.”

Will shrugged. “It lets me get away and hide when I’m feeling overwhelmed or just tired of dealing with the General.”

Hannibal moved up behind him, gently taking his backpack from him. “You can escape here anytime you like. No one would dare come in here without permission. You can hide and rest and pretend for awhile like you’re perfectly normal.” He deposited it next to the coffee table. 

“We can get to know each other without the threat of war hanging over our heads.”

“War or not, there will always be a threat of something.”

“Like the General and the Dragon.”

“Yes.” Will turned to face him and he reached out, palm sliding over his cheek. He smiled when he leaned into the touch. “You are such a beautiful creature.” He stepped into him, heard his breath catch at the invasion of his personal space, and couldn’t help but press a kiss to his forehead. “Are you hungry?”

“No, just tired.”

He pulled back to look into his eyes. “How about a bath and bed then.”

“If you don’t mind.” 

“You know I don’t.”

He guided Will to the bathroom, grinning at the wide eyed, nervous expression he received when he ordered him to start undressing. He turned away, starting the water and testing it before plugging the drain. When he turned back, his eyes were drawn to the scar. It had been such a precise strike, meant to maim rather than kill, and even though he knew he should feel regret at seeing the results, he found himself admiring it instead. 

“Hannibal?”

“Hmm?” He raised his gaze, giving him a smile. “Apologies, continue.”

“Are you staying?”

“Are you shy, Will?”

“No.”

“Then I have no reason to leave.” He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the tub. “Come now, it’s just a bit of nudity.” They both stood there, at a seeming impasse, the only sound that of the water. Hannibal knew nothing but patience and it soon won out. 

There was a brief flash of irritation in Will’s eyes and he stopped himself from laughing when he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them off along with his underwear. A flush of embarrassment moved up into his face as he dropped them on the floor then removed his socks. “Happy?”

“Very.” He let his eyes move over him then moved out of the way. “Get in and relax.” He pointed. “Face that way.”

“Alright.”

Hannibal gathered soap, shampoo, and pulled a stool over while Will climbed into the still filling tub. He sat down behind him and reached out, placing his hands on his shoulders. “You are still so tense.” He massaged him, fingers and thumbs pressing firmly into tight muscles. 

“I don’t exactly do this every day.”

“I would be disappointed if you did.” He stood, leaning past him to switch the water off. Will grabbed his arm when he pulled back. “Yes?”

“What happened?” His fingers traced the scar at his forearm. 

“Your jaguar.” He sat back down. “Wet your hair for me.” Will slid down, dunking his head partially underwater then sitting back up. “So obedient.” He teased as he squeezed shampoo into his hands and worked it into Will’s hair. 

“Old habits.”

“One I intend to exploit.”

“Should I run now?”

“If you think you can truly escape.”

Will let out a sigh, seeming to finally allow himself to relax. “Not tonight, maybe someday.” He played his fingers through the water. “The General and the Dragon will come for us. I betrayed them both, you fought one of them, they’ll want us.” 

Hannibal grabbed his chin and turned his head. “And when they do, we will destroy them. We will feast upon them like wolves do lambs, and free ourselves.” He brushed their noses together. “We will not be beholden to them.” 

“Is that a promise?”

“It is.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Captain.”

“I would have it no other way.”


End file.
